


L'ho perduta me meschina

by astrodomine



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: F/M, i'll update the tags as the story progresses, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-27 02:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrodomine/pseuds/astrodomine
Summary: Christine knew that this lesson was to be disastrous. She could feel it not only in her bones but also see it in the way that Erik’s golden eyes glinted.Leroux-ish
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Christine knew that this lesson was to be disastrous. She could feel it not only in her bones but also see it in the way that Erik’s golden eyes glinted. 

_Wait- glinting gold! Oh god, please no god,_ Christine thought as she jerked her head down to the fourth finger on her left hand. She felt her throat choke and the space behind her eyes begin to burn. _Th-this is Raoul’s ring! God! What a fool I am, how could I forget to switch them!?_

As subtle as her nerves allowed her to, she felt for the ring on the chain around her neck. Her stomach felt as if it had sunken to the bottom of the dark, subterranean lake that she was currently being transported on. Erik’s ring wasn’t there; her only salvation for her foolish engagement with Raoul wasn’t there!

“What seems to be the matter, my dearest Christine? Why, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” her masked companion said with cold humor. “Then again you should be used to the appearance of ghosts by now. Hmm, well it matters not, we’re here.” 

He was mocking her; he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

_He surely has noticed already. Perhaps as soon as he saw me! Erik, why must you toy with me like this?_ she thought as she gulped down a tickling of bile at her throat. 

Erik offered his hand to help Christine out of the boat. She instinctively raised her left hand and barely managed to prevent herself from retching it away when his empty look grazed her knuckles. Erik’s eyes met Christine’s and time froze for a moment.

“I... Erik, it really is rather chilly out here. Could we per-perhaps..” Christine took a deep breath. “Could we perhaps go inside now? To do our lesson?”

Erik blinked and with a sly, cruel tone, “Why of course, my dear! We cannot have you catching cold and damaging your voice! How _horrible_ Erik is being by keeping you out here!”

“No- I… Erik, that’s not what I meant. I just wish to go inside now.”

“Christine surely wishes for many things, doesn’t she?” Erik whispered under his breath hatefully. 

“Pardon!?” she responded with unease. “What do you mean, Erik?” 

“Nothing at all, dear Christine. Come, come now we must get you inside and warmed up.” 

He all but dragged her inside as she struggled to keep up. Her head rang with _he knows, he knows, oh god he’s going to kill Raoul or me or both of us, please have mercy_. The mantra continued to repeat itself continuously like a prayer spinning in her head. Christine was snapped out of her thoughts when a small pile of sheet music was thrust into her hands.

“Today we will do Mozart. Of course, you have seemed so _stressed_ lately that I believed we ought to work on some easier repertoire, don't you think?” Erik started.

_This is not bad. He cannot be that mad if all he is doing is having me sing a simpler aria! Not mad at all! If this is his punishment then he truly cannot be!_ Christine thought with relief.

Erik, as if sensing that her train of thought had ended, continued, “Of course I do hope that you do not see this as a punishment or downgrade, my Christine. I have been _so very proud_ of you and your _actions_ recently!” 

Christine gulped.

“My, my Christine! You are so very humble as to think yourself so undeserving of my praise that you do not even respond! Or is Christine by any chance not grateful for her dear Erik’s praises?” Erik taunted.

“Wait! I am gratef-”

Erik raised a hand and cut her off to continue speaking, “Now, Christine, is this perhaps because you have something that you are _not_ proud of?! Do you believe yourself to have done something that might _contradict_ my assessment of you? Maybe that your actions have not been as saintly as one might like to believe?”

“Erik! Not at all! How can you speak of me that way!?” she responded, forgetting her situation as a burst of anger flared up inside her. “How dare you imply such awful things about me! Especially when you claim to love me!”

She immediately knew that it was the wrong thing to say the second the words left her mouth. Erik’s eyes seemed to burn her in place with the madness in their glare. A moment later something flashed through his eyes and he sighed theatrically.

“Ah yes I have forgotten that Christine is nothing if not an angel gracing Erik with her presence. He apologizes,” he said morosely.

Christine, not knowing whether he intended to inflict this reaction, felt guilt and pity travel up her spine into her heart.

“No Erik! It is I who should apologize!” her mind flashed back to the replacement of Erik's ring on her finger and she stopped. ”I-I..”

“Yes, my dear?” he prompted in a soft yet predatorial tone.

“I should never have yelled at you. I...I’m sorry,” Christine finished with her eyes looking at the floor with shame.

“Is that all?” Erik said; Christine's head jerked up.

“Yes that is all,” she said softly. “Could we...could we perhaps sing now?” 

Her eyes finally met his suddenly very sad, despondent ones.

“I do believe that is the best course of action, Christine. Erik will play the introduction for you- although we have not yet studied this aria yet I would be much surprised if you did not know the music,” he said with finality as he began to play the introduction. Her eyes widened and she looked at the sheet music she had been handed. _L'ho perduta me meschina…_ she read to herself.

_He is just taunting me! Breathe. It's all okay, Christine. Just open your mouth and breathe and sing and breathe again._

Repeating this to herself, she managed to get through the short aria only stumbling in a few places.

All he uttered was a brusque “Again!” and began to play at a slightly faster pace.

So again she sang and sang and sang, becoming more and more desperate which each run through. Erik finally stopped having her sing the song continuously right as she felt as if she were on the verge of tears. 

“Well, my dear, are you enjoying yourself? I know that L’ho perduta is a bit below your level but it is _so very important_ to start from the bottom and practice building up characterization,” he paused purposefully and then continued slyly. “Speaking of characterization- you do seem to be lacking in that today! All you seem to have is this same dull look on your face! Dearest Christine, if you cannot give a small character like Barbarina depth how shall you be able to do so with the Countess!”

“Oh, Erik please-”

“Ah, ah, ah, Christine. You know it’s very poorly mannered to backtalk your teacher when he is giving you critique. Heavens, you truly are struggling today! Could it be that something is on your mind?”

“No!” Christine squeaked out harshly.

“Ah well, no matter. Since your mind and conscience are apparently so _clear_ why don’t we go through line by line. You see the translation I’ve written under the Italian, correct?”

Christine bit back tears, “..Yes..Yes, I do, Erik.”

“Read me the original Italian and then the translation.”

The mocking feeling that Erik had filled the room with dissipated in an instant. All that was left was the cold feeling that penetrated the underground house by the lake, only heightened by Erik’s deadly calm gaze on her.

“Well go on…” he coaxed darkly. 

Her jaw twitched as she read the words, 

“L'ho perduta... me meschina...

ah, chi sa dove sarà?

Non la trovo... E mia cugina...

e il padron ... cosa dirà?”

He put his hand up again, “Now, my Christine, could you do me the _honor_ of telling me what that means?”

Christine breathed deeply, “But..but you’re the one who wrote it right there! Surely you remember what it says, Erik.”

Her eyes were pleading for him to stop, to have mercy, to do anything but just stare at her with that inclement look in his eyes. He saw this plea and chose to pointedly ignore it.

“I’ve forgotten. Repeat it.”

“But I-”

“REPEAT!” he shouted, the first outburst he had made all night. Christine cowered into herself as she gripped the paper and began to read.

“Oh dear me, I've lost it …” Christine shuddered. “Oh please, I’m-”

“Do not stop, dear! You know how Erik loves to hear your precious voice- even in speech! Unless… there is something you wish to share with me? Somehow more pressing?”

Christine drew back into herself even more than she already had, “No..nothing..”

“Then continue,” he held up his hand as she started the next line; his eyes narrowed. “From the beginning.”

“Oh dear me, I've lost it …Oh, wherever can it be?” Christine looked up, the only response she received was the same look he’d had since she first sang this hellish song.

“I can't find it ... And my cousin and my lord... what will they say?” she managed to read the few lines without her voice breaking. 

“Now we both know the meaning, don’t we?” Erik asked. “Hmm, I feel as though you have been singing with the wrong feeling.”

Christine shivered.

“But how can we accomplish this goal? Any ideas Christine?” he clapped his hands theatrically. “Ah yes! I’ve got it!”

Erik’s eyes narrowed his eyes insidiously, “Why don’t we draw from our own experiences! Christine, are you like our dear friend Barbarina? Have you lost something horribly important before?”

Christine choked on the very air she was breathing in. It felt as though the room was going to swallow or suffocate her. The shadows too dark, the fire too bright and ferocious- ready to crown her skin in burns. She looked quickly back at the floor and hugged herself protectively.

“No-” she tightened her grip on herself. “Well, surely I’ve lost things before! I’m sure that you have before-”

“Erik has _never_ lost anything of his,” he hissed. “At least not of his own volition.”

“I haven’t lost anything! Why do you have such little faith in me!?” Christine clamored.

Erik's eyes narrowed and he began to move towards her. Christine wished for the suffocating feeling the room instilled in her to return. Anything would be better than the cold, terrified feeling she felt in her heart as he stalked closer to her. _Oh God, what have I done? He’s going to kill me!_ Christine backed away until she was right in front of the fire gate; the heat of the fire licking through her skirts completely contrasted with the cold pressure she felt in her head.

“Hmm, I wonder why, my dearest, sweetest Christine, _do_ I doubt you? Surely you haven’t given Erik any reasons, have you?” he said pinning her with his gaze.

“I’ve told you already! There is no reason! I have done nothing-” Christine started.

“LIES!” Erik yelled. “You are _lying_ to Erik… he does not much like when Christine lies. _It is so unbecoming in a woman_.”

“I am not lying!” Christine wailed. “Please Erik I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Let me go!”

“If you weren’t _lying_ then why should you apologize? I think I have a guess! Would Christine like Erik to share his opinion? Once he is done she may confirm if he is correct or not.”

“No Erik! I don’t want to play your games!”

“TOO. BAD,” he shook her and then pulled her closer to hiss in her ear. “I personally believe that it has to do with your _dear Vicomte_! Could that be it? I seem to have some evidence to back up my claim.”

Suddenly he turned her around swiftly, all but threw her onto the settee; he rounded in and leaned over her menacingly. “Well, Christine?”

Christine felt the sensation of tear tracks flowing down her cheeks, “Oh.. oh Erik! I am sorry! Please forgive me!”

“My sweet Christine, Erik always forgives his friends,” he replied.

She gulped but before any relief could seep into her he continued his thought.

“Of course, you aren’t Erik’s friend anymore, _are you_ ? This is obviously so- for you no longer wear his ring! No, no! Dear, little Christine wears _another man’s_ ring! But not any other man- why it’s the ring of _that boy, that fop, your handsome little Vicomte_!”

Christine’s head felt as if it would burst! He leaned closer and closer to her as he screamed at her. A rush of adrenaline through her veins caused her hands to shake and twitch. Quickly she reached her hand up and ripped off the cursed full-face mask that had prevented her from reading his expression past his gaze. His eyes widened as he ripped himself away from her and, curling in on himself, he covered his face with his hands.

As she tried to shift away from him and jump off the settee she saw his shoulders begin to shake. Horrified at the idea of him crying-at the idea that she still felt ashamed for unmasking him despite all of the horrors he had and continued to subject her to. Christine felt guilt, anger, and pity rush through her. Then suddenly she heard it.

His laughter. His horrible, repulsive, mad laughter closing in around her. He swiftly turned and caged her with his arms, keeping her stuck in place beneath him.

“ _Christine! I thought we went over manners already! What a rude, little, forgetful Barbarina we are! Then again Barbarina never meant any harm- you, however! No, no you’re much more of a Delilah, aren’t you, my precious one?”_

She cringed away from him and shut her eyes as tight as possible.

“Erik! It was only playing pretend! Please we truly meant no harm at all by it!” Christine wailed in response.

“Ah, yes 'just pretend'. Well if it were 'just pretend' then you’d have no need or reason to not wear Erik’s ring and yet it appears it has made no appearance tonight!” he barked. “I just suppose with your playing pretend with the _boy_ and your wild imagination, which we both know you use very often, you forgot!”

“..yes, I did..” Christine whispered, clenching her eyes closed as he pushed his death’s head face closer to her.

“ _Op_ _en your eyes, Christine, open your eyes and face the consequences of your imagination!_ ” Erik breathed in her ear, before growing impatient and grabbing her. “OPEN YOUR EYES!”

Quickly, Christine followed his directions fearfully and attempted not to recoil in disgust as she gazed once again at the horror of his papery, noseless face. The painful sensation of pity continued to swirl through her. Her tears of fear only began to run in faster and thicker streams. 

“FEAST YOUR EYES! GLUT YOUR SOUL! FOR THIS IS THE FACE OF THE ONLY MAN YOU WILL BE SEEING FOR A VERY, _VERY_ LONG TIME- IF NOT FOREVER!” 

“What do you mean by that?!” Christine gasped, already knowing the answer and feeling her emotions begin to shut down.

Suddenly Erik’s voice was very soft and deadly cold, “You are a much smarter girl than one who needs to ask that, Christine. Use your cleverness now and tell your Erik what you think he means?”

“...You..You mean to keep me here forever.." Christine whispered as an empty look began to invade her face.

“You’re correct, clever Christine! Now since you no longer wish to be Erik’s _friend_ you must want something else..” Her eyes gained awareness again. _No, no, please. NO PLEASE._ “Christine obviously means to become his living wife! You know you are such a silly little thing! Normally when you want to marry someone you don’t remove his ring and replace it with another’s!” 

Erik then stood up and away from her, allowing her more room. 

“Give me your hand,” he said as he reached out. Mirroring the action that felt like it happened so long ago, she gave him her hand. He wretched Raoul’s ring off her finger and Christine gave a heartbroken cry as he threw it into the blazing fireplace. 

“You have no need for the ring of your _ex_ -fiance,” he spoke as he slipped the previously lost gold ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand. 

She must’ve looked surprised because Erik said, “I told you, little Barbarina, that I never lost anything of mine and _never_ intend to but I guess I should also tell you that I am great at _finding things_.”

Christine didn’t bother to respond; she just stared at him with a sad, resentful look.

“Well off to your room, child. Erik knows that you shall be very tired in the coming days as we prepare for our wedding ceremony!”

She wiped the tears from her eyes as she got up from the settee. The ring felt heavy and uncomfortable on her finger, despite it being just her size. _How does he know things like that…_ she thought devoid of emotion. Once she got to her door, Christine turned around and regarded Erik with only one short statement before locking herself in the Louis-Philippe room.

“I shall hate you forever.”


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke up, Christine’s skull felt like it was about to split in two. She debated heavily between laying back in bed or drudging herself up to fetch a cup of tea.  _ If Mama is up she may want one too. Wait- _

This was not her bed nor her room at the little, charming flat where she lived with her Mama Valerius. It was the Louis-Philippe room, under the opera house, in  _ his _ domain. 

Christine’s eyes narrowed as she remembered what had happened the night before. She remembered the fear and guilt she felt at wearing Raoul’s ring and remembered Erik’s violent reaction. Finally, the largest horror of the whole night resurfaced in her mind; he was going to force her to marry him!

Recoiling in disgust, Christine dug her head back under her pillow and bit back bitter tears.  _ How did it ever get this bad? I don’t know who I despise more: me or him! Maybe this is all a horrible nightmare and I just need to wake up. _

Christine debated having a literal tête-à-tête with the ornate headboard of her bed but decided that if this situation was indeed real, as she dreaded, that hurting herself would do no good. She sighed and decided to resign herself to her bedroom for as long as he was going to keep her here. 

_ I’d rather let myself die of hunger than have to face his taunts and screams again!  _ She thought, trying to ignore the slight feeling of guilt that seemed to absorb her whenever Erik came to mind.  _ If he truly loved me he wouldn’t treat me so… _

On the other side of the door, Erik was losing his mind. Of course, he had expected the girl to be upset; he  _ had _ made the mistake of yelling at her. However was it not she who disobeyed his orders! He told her that everything would be fine if she stayed loyal and did not remove the ring. Instead, Christine, the dear foolish thing, decided that she would instead deny him and run off to go play house with that utter fop of a boy. 

_ And on top of that,  _ Erik thought with deep fury.  _ She has the NERVE to hole herself up in her room. She is merely delaying the inevitable. This was always meant to happen and she must be utterly daft to not realize that fact.  _

Still, he refused to be the one to go to her. He paced and raged as dark thoughts pulsed in his head, thoughts which he somehow managed to control. He sucked in a cold stream of air through his not-a-nose. 

_ Women are like this! They can be so fickle, I must remember that! She can’t stay in her room forever. She’ll have to come out and see me eventually, even if it’s just for nourishment!  _

These thoughts managed to temporarily calm Erik as he went about the rest of his routine- or at least attempted to. She was a distraction. He couldn’t compose or read or even just stare at the fire! Erik let his weak resolve give way as he soundlessly leaned on her door, hoping that perhaps the sounds of her movements might calm him.

On the other side of the door, Christine did the same. Only instead she felt herself wishing for Raoul to come and save her.

_ I wish you were here, Raoul. I’m sorry! Now I’ve lost two rings, although yours will be harder to get back,  _ Christine thought as she debated rushing over to dig through the pile of ashes in the fireplace. Raoul,  _ I need something of you. Something that I can hold onto to keep me from falling into insanity.  _

She longed for that dear red scarf as she felt her eyes begin to lose their dryness again. 

Christine must’ve fallen asleep because she woke up back in bed. Her neck didn’t have a crick in it, which she was grateful for. Her stomach, however, growled loudly. It dawned upon Christine that she would need physical strength to get herself out of the situation she was in.

_ If I’m lucky he’ll be off composing or have gone out!  _

It seemed that Christine was indeed lucky, as Erik was nowhere to be found as she peaked her head out of her door and hesitantly stepped out of her room. She made her way over to the dining room table to find a plate full of food and a small note waiting for her. Her stomach turned as she sat down.

Christine began to dig into the now cold plate of eggs, meats, and sliced bread with raspberry jam as she glanced at the note. Her name was penned on the front in that strange, near illegible handwriting of Erik’s. The ink, as always, was bright red. Her hands shook as she reached for it and broke the seal on the back.

**My Dearest Christine,**

**As you can see, I have gone out to fetch supplies and essentials for the upcoming days. I hope that you managed to eat the meal I have left for you before it got cold. As usual, feel free to help yourself to whatever you may need. All I ask is that you continue to follow the rules that I have left you in the past; foremost, the rule about not entering the door I have mentioned to you before. I also ask that you not again lose your ring now that I have retrieved it for you.**

**I do love you with all my heart and being, please remember that Christine.**

**-Your Erik**

Christine fought the urge to rip the note to pieces and throw it into the fire.  _ How DARE he! He continues to mock me and even in his notes, he commands me as if I were a spoiled child!  _ She took a stuttering but still somewhat calming breath.  _ I’ll be okay. Raoul will certainly notice my random disappearance. He will come and save me.  _

With this comforting thought, Christine walked over to the settee that Erik had threatened her at just the night before. She kept the note clenched in her hand as her eyebrows furrowed and her mind kept pondering the note.  _ The door he had forbidden me from entering… _

When he had first spirited her away to his world below, Erik gave Christine a tour of all of the rooms of this dreadfully normal-looking house by the lake. He had shown her the Louis-Philippe room, the sitting room, kitchen, and music room. He had even shown her his room, along with the horrible coffin and opulent organ housed inside. Erik had shown her all but one room.

_ “Christine,”  _ he had said in an impossibly serious voice that grew in both alarm and volume.  _ “You must never enter this room. It is locked for a reason, but if it should ever be unlocked you must swear that you will not enter! SWEAR IT!” _

Of course, she had sworn that she wouldn’t immediately, her senses were overloaded and she was still coming back from the shocking truth of her situation. But now she wondered…

_ He says he loves me. He means to force marriage upon me,  _ Christine thought resentfully.  _ Well if he  _ **_does_ ** _ mean to marry me, a husband and wife should not have any secrets between them! _

With that thought, Christine bounded up off the settee and went right to the forbidden door.  _ Erik keeps secrets from me- I am not allowed any privacy! And yet he gets to keep secrets! _

She tried the doorknob; it was, of course, locked. 

Christine let out a frustrated huff and tried to think straight. 

_ This is a bad idea, Christine, _ she told herself.  _ Erik told you not to enter this room for a reason, that’s why he has left it locked. ..He doesn’t trust you, of course, you haven’t helped that! But he also told you not to enter from the beginning- he never trusted you! _

Christine’s anger grew tenfold as she resolved herself to uncover the secret of this room. 

First, she tried the skeleton key he had given her, but it didn’t work; Christine then decided that the key must be hidden somewhere that he wouldn’t expect her to look. She searched and searched until she made her way to the last place she would want to go into, Erik’s room. She found her goal there.

It was an inconspicuous leather bag just sitting next to his organ. 

Christine’s eyes narrowed as she crept over to the bag, her hand with the note tightened into such a fist the paper was practically destroyed. She let out a gasp full of both fear and anticipation as if she were worried that he had set some kind of trap in case she reached for it. 

“...It’s right there!” Christine whispered with a gasp as the hand without the note shook. “This must be it! Just this little bag!”

Finally stealing all of her courage together, she reached and grasped the leather bag tight in her little hand. She stumbled back and ran back to the sitting room, collapsing on the settee. The bag sat on her lap, crushed by her hand’s grasp on it. Christine ripped it open and found what she was looking for.

Two little bronze keys rested in her palm. Christine gulped, wishing away the dryness in her throat, and returned to face the forbidden door.  _ If I’m going to do this I must do it now. I must discover what he is hiding from me.  _

She put the first key in the lock and it didn’t turn; she let out a sigh of relief and slight disappointment. Then she tried the second key. It fit perfectly and with the slightest push, the door opened. 

Christine took, what she didn’t know at the time, could very well have been her very last breath and step in. The door closed and she was surrounded by the blackest darkness she had ever seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter but don't worry a big one is on the horizon. I don't want to set an exact day for updates but if all goes well I should be updating at least once a week.
> 
> Thank you for the comments, by the way, they make me smile and inspire me to write! Have a lovely day and I hope you enjoyed reading!

**Author's Note:**

> L'ho perduta me meschina is a short aria at the beginning of the fourth act of The Marriage of Figaro by Mozart. Basically, Barbarina has lost a pin that she is supposed to give to another character. I thought that might lend itself to some interesting E/C interaction!
> 
> I definitely tried to edge closer to Leroux's characterization of Christine and Erik, so I hope that came across. Any and all comments, questions, and criticisms are very much welcome! Thanks for reading!


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